Aftermath
by Phen82
Summary: After the final battle, Harry is imprisoned in Azkaban. Wanna know more? You'll have to read. Does not follow from Innocence Lost...
1. Default Chapter

"Right this way Professor" the guard says, indicating down the stone corridor.  
  
I nod slightly as I follow him, cringing inside as we pass cells with dementors guarding the prisoners within. I shake my head while the guard isn't looking at me. I honestly can't believe they let this happen. I shouldn't be doing this. I shouldn't have to. He shouldn't be here in the first place.  
  
It was all Fudge's idea. After the final battle between Harry Potter and Voldemort, Fudge had Harry imprisoned in Azkaban without a trial. A new policy he brought in himself. He made a habit of doing that over his career. Fudge was worried that Potter would decide to take over where Voldemort left off. I shudder as I think of the name. It is the name I have used for 5 long years, yet it still chills me to the bone, even now that he is dead.  
  
Fudge was also killed recently. Assassinated it would seem. I can feel the smirk come to my lips as I think of it. Fudge deserved it. He was a fool. Fools have no place in power. Although I don't stow much faith in the newest Minister, I must admit that he is better than the last. I have never complimented a Weasley in my life, but I must say this, there is no way that Weasley could do any worse than Fudge. The first order of business was to give Harry a trial, at which all the charges against him were dropped.  
  
Thus I am here, walking along the dark corridors of Azkaban prison, towards the cell that Harry Potter has been kept in for close to four and a half years, one of the most unlikely people to come to his rescue. But I was sent because I had other issues with the prison. My father died here recently. It was no great loss. I had renounced his ways a long time ago. Still, blood is blood, and one can't shun familial obligations over a difference of opinion.  
  
Mother didn't come.  
  
Not many people know that she divorced him shortly after he was sent to Azkaban. Many people believed that she was just as involved in the dark arts as my father, but it isn't true. She wasn't even aware that he was involved. She did her best to keep me away from that sort of thing, and hoped that my father shared her views. She was naïve.  
  
Most people thought that I was the same way inclined as my father. No one would hire me after I finished Hogwarts. A tarnished family reputation tends to stick, and my case is no exception. It is no surprise that I ended up back at Hogwarts. Dumbledore took me in. He welcomed me with open arms, despite what people believed of me. He set me to work, but not only as a staff member. I was a spy also, giving any information that was afforded to me by my old school chums, all of which had joined forces with Voldemort. After the war was over, I had only to focus on my real job. There was no longer any need to spy, but my information is still useful. I keep my ear out in case there is any hint of another Dark Arts uprising.  
  
I sigh as we reach the door to a cell. The guard warns the dementors to step aside and I cringe as they walk closer to me to step away from the door. I take a step back, feeling the cold penetrate my lungs. The guard lifts his wand and casts a patronus. The cold feeling seeps away as the dementors retreat. The guard opens the cell door, motioning for me to go inside.  
  
The first thing that hits me is the smell. I wrinkle my nose against it, trying to ignore it as I pulled out my wand. It is the smell of human waste, of decay, of blood. I feel my stomach churn and use all of my will power to stop myself from retching. The cell looks empty, but it could be because it is so dark. 'How can people survive down here?' I think to myself. 'Many don't' my inner voice answers. I shudder and push it away, unwilling to deal with why fear has begun to curse through me from the thought.  
  
"Lumos" I utter, and a light appears at the end of my wand.  
  
I cast the wand around the small cell, trying to adjust to the poor lighting. I hear something move and put my wand quickly in the direction that the movement had come from. The light illuminates a crouched figure in the corner. The figure is so thin that it looks like a child. I walk closer and see that his robes are ripped and decaying. There are sores over the pale flesh that the holes display. I shudder involuntarily at the sight of them before crouching next to the trembling figure.  
  
"Harry?" I ask tentatively.  
  
The figure looks up, startled at the human voice. Possibly it is the first time he has heard a human voice since he got in here. He looks at me without any recognition. A strange emotion passes through his face before his face goes blank once more. I stare into the deep green eyes and feel ice in my chest that wasn't caused by the dementors.  
  
I had never been on friendly terms with Potter. Despite spending 7 years with him at Hogwarts, I had never really bonded with him. I remember that I had a few chance conversations with him towards the end of the war and we had managed civility, but never a real friendship. I don't know why the look in his eyes, which was so different than it had been the last time I had seen him, had affected me in the way it had.  
  
His eyes were dead. As if being kept with the dementors for such a long time had the same effect on him as a dementors kiss. But then again, he has seen more than most have lived to tell. There was surely more pain in this cell than any other in Azkaban.  
  
I shuddered once again as I looked into the empty green eyes which held no soul behind them. I saw him trembling and he balled himself up tighter. I saw goosebumps on his flesh and quickly discarded my cloak and pulled it tightly over him. I feel a startling urge to hurt the warden for letting this happen to Harry, but I suppress it, knowing that Harry needs medical attention immediately. I have no supplies with me.  
  
"Come on Harry. It's time to go" I whisper softly, so as not to startle him again.  
  
He doesn't make any movement or show any sign of understanding what I had just said to him. I sigh as I lift him to his feet. He almost falls back, obviously no longer used to using his own legs. I put an arm around him securely so that he wouldn't fall back to the floor and try to lead him out of the cell.  
  
Our progress is hindered somewhat by the fact that he can't walk properly. The sores that cover his body apparently cover his feet also, as he limps uncomfortably when he walks. I sigh and levitate him instead. At least this way we can get back to Hogwarts sometime today, I think to myself. The guard leads us silently back through the corridors until we reach the front entrance where a figure is visible, pacing nervously. She spins around as she hears the footsteps. Our eyes meet for a moment before she brakes off the stare and looks towards the figure that is being levitated beside me.  
  
"Oh my!" she exclaims, rushing over. "Is he.?"  
  
"He's alive" I reply softly.  
  
Relief floods her face and she looks back at me.  
  
"Thanks for doing this" she says. I wave off her gratitude. I learned a long time ago that "thankyou's" don't get you anywhere in life.  
  
"I was coming here anyway Granger. What are you doing here though? Didn't think I could handle it by myself?" I ask, tauntingly. She flushes slightly and holds up a small boot. I raise my eyebrow slightly.  
  
"You forgot the port-key. Harry won't be in any condition to apparate" she points out. I let out a small sigh of frustration before grabbing the boot off her and looking to my watch. It's nearly time. I take the levitating charm off Harry and let him down gently to the ground.  
  
"Are you apparating?" I ask Granger impatiently. She nods, blushing slightly.  
  
"I was going to see Ron before I went back" she mutters. I roll my eyes slightly.  
  
"Tell him congratulations on the new job" I comment politely.  
  
She nods and leaves with a small wave of her wand and a resounding pop. I look at my watch again. 30 seconds. I put my arm around Harry and hold him close as I pick up the boot once more. I count down softly to myself. 3. 2. 1.  
  
There is a tug at my navel and I squeeze Harry a little, making sure not to leave him behind. When the world stops spinning I drop the boot and looked around at my surroundings.  
  
"Ah Draco, I see that you have been successful" comes a voice from behind me. I spin around and see Professor Dumbledore staring down at me with a warm smile. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

I leave the office cursing the bumbling old fool. Yes you heard me. I haven't changed so much as you might think. I might have ended the war on the side of light, but that doesn't mean that I decided to completely change my personality to suit them. Go ahead then, call me names, protest. I bet you that you can't come up with anything I haven't heard before. But I'm not about to change, not even for you. I'm the one who's living this life, and no one is forcing you to read about it! Quite frankly, you could go and shove your opinions where the sun doesn't shine, and it won't affect me in the slightest. But once again, I digress.

Albus Dumbledore. He took me in, gave me a job when no one else would, a place to stay when I had nowhere else to turn, why shouldn't I like him, you might ask yourself. Well let's just say, I have my reasons. I'd hate for you to lose your beloved opinion of our resident headmaster by listing out exactly why I believe that he is nearly as bad as Voldemort himself. Add to that the fact that we are talking about the man who effectively caused the saviour of our world to spend the lastfour years in Azkaban. No. I doubt that I will ever think of him with any degree of sentimentality.

The halls are deserted as I walk back towards my rooms. I'm glad of it. I don't think that I could deal with any students passing by at the moment. Not after what I've just seen. I don't think I'll ever be able to wash the smell from me. It's clung to me since we left, filling my nostrils with the acrid smell of decay and faeces. Unbidden, the thought of Potter, sitting in his own filth, his dull green eyes staring up at me, springs into my mind. Those dead green eyes. I shudder again. No, Albus Dumbledore is not, and never will be a good man in my eyes.

I can see my door now. Just a few steps further. I imagine the room waiting for me. The fire merrily crackling, the bottle of firewhiskey beside my favourite chair, and the most welcome thought of the evening, the bathroom just off to the left, with a private bath. I almost smile as I reach the door. I whisper the password low so that no one who might be lurking in the corridor will hear it. The wall swings open and I take a step inside. I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Draco!"

_Oh for heaven's sake!_

I turn to the unwelcome voice, and find myself being stared down by none other than the bookworm herself.

"Twice in one day Granger. Be careful, I may start to think that you fancy me." I drawl, enjoying the look of indignation which spreads across her face at the accusation.

"I most certainly do not!" she mutters angrily, putting a hand on her hip.

"Well I can't say that I'm upset by your denial. It makes things a little easier for me after all. I mean you really aren't my type. I only date beautiful women." I say, assuming a regretful expression.

She snorts with laughter. How… inelegant.

"Get off your high horse Malfoy. I came about Harry." She says, looking concerned now.

"He's not here." I reply, getting annoyed. My warm bath seems to be calling me.

"Well obviously," She says looking exasperated. "What happened? What did Dumbledore say? Is he going to be alright?"

"I'm not Dumbledore. If you want to know what he thinks then maybe you should be at his door annoying him rather than at mine. Now if you'll excuse me." I say purposefully, meaning to retreat back into my quarters.

"Oh no you don't!" She exclaims, grabbing my arm and pulling me out.

"Hey! Watch it! That's a very expensive robe! I don't want you getting your mud…"

"Finish that sentence and I'll kill you." She hisses, her wand pointed directly at my throat.

I raise my hand in mock defeat.

"I was about to say muddy hands." I say, pointing to her hands. She looks down at her hands, and notices that they are covered with dirt. Most likely from the wall she's been leaning against.

"You should really learn to loosen up. I've just had to rescue one of the golden trio from Azkaban. I'd hate to have to go back there again for you." I say conversationally, brushing my sleeve for effect.

She drops her wand, looking extremely tired. I feel a twinge of pity. It is, after all, one of her best friends we are talking about. I suppress the urge to say something comforting. Yes I can feel pity, I'm only human. That doesn't mean that I have to act on it. It just wouldn't be me really would it? Well, she does look really horrible…

"For God's sakes Granger, you look terrible! Go and annoy Dumbledore for a while then go and get some sleep! You're going to need your rest if you're to join ranks with the other weasel baby factories." I say, retreating into my chambers before she can grab me again.

The last thing I see as the wall closes is her furious expression. Didn't I tell you I wasn't nice?

I reflect upon the conversation for a moment._ "Weasel baby factories"_…I guess I'm more tired than I thought.


End file.
